Present Form of Past Tense
by Radiant Angel Girl
Summary: So yeah. He had a thing for blondes, which is maybe why he fell in love with Andy so easily.  Because she was so different from what he was used to. So different from her.


Another one-shot, separate from my other collection because it is another universe. Set in the months after the Brennan-debacle.

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><p><em>Present Form of Past Tense<em>

So maybe he did have a thing for blondes.

Honestly, though, it was in the past. Like, way in the past.

Blondes just reminded him of Celeste, and Sandrine, and the family he used to have. Before the accident. Maybe that's why he was so hesitant to go after Jamie Brennan. He knew what _that_ was like.

So yeah. He had a thing for blondes, which is maybe why he fell in love with Andy so easily. Because she was so different from what he was used to. So different from her.

And maybe he never expected her to find out about all that. Well, maybe he should have. In all honesty, he was as much of a flight risk as she was. Hence the undercover and the drug squad, and all the life threatening cases he put himself on a ledge for.

OOO+OOO

And she was so curious, anyways. When he asked her to a hockey game, he opened the can of worms.

Canadiens at Maple Leafs, two months after the undercover. Just a nice hockey game, a good beginner's date, because they had skipped all of that. But it sparked her curiosity because he showed up at her doorstep wearing a Habs jersey, and she was wearing Toronto blue.

"You're a Habs fan? Really." She made a show of barely wanting to take his arm as he walked her to the truck.

"Really, really, McNally. Gotta support the hometown."

"You're from Montréal? Never would have guessed."

"Wasn't born there, but it's where I grew up."

"Hmm." She was quiet barely a minute. "You speak French?"

"Yeah."

And that was the end of the conversation.

OOO+OOO

That's another funny thing. Back in Montréal, fifteen years ago he was a like a mixture of Diaz and Epstein with a lot more street-cred. But he was jazzed up about it all the time. He didn't stray from the rulebook ever.

Then the accident happened, and Ollie suggested he move up to Toronto. Truthfully, Ollie was the only thing that kept him sane after.

Stupid Oliver, always trying to look after him. Even back when they were both at the academy in Montréal. Hooked him up with his sister in law. Actually worked out, got married and all. Had a baby, little Sandrine with her flaxen curls and mother's features. Looked nothing like him.

"How old are you anyway?" Andy asked him one day while they were on patrol.

OOO+OOO

"Old enough." He didn't want to scare her away… not that she was going to spook six months into the game.

"No really." Which in Andy speak meant 'out with it'.

"38."

"Okay. I'm 28." He knew that. It made sense now... He had just transferred to tps and started working with her dad when he started drinking hard.

"Okay."

"Okay."

It was just a bizarre conversation to him.

"Oliver said you had family in Montreal?" Oliver was sticking his nose where it didn't belong.

A call came over the radio at just that moment. "Uh, yeah. Now isn't a good time to talk."

And he was good at keeping the past where it belonged.

OOO+OOO

Until the day he and Peck were on patrol and they had to stop for an accident call. The woman who was hit, she'd be okay; she was only shaken up and bruised.

The guy who caused the accident... Sam recognized him right away. He was…The guy who ruined his life the first time.

"Jean Tomas Roy." he gritted out through clenched teeth. He pulled the guy from the vehicle and threw him not the side of the cruiser, "Didn't you learn your lesson the last time?" He was being rough with this guy and it took Gail Peck yelling at him for him to stop.

"Officer Swarek! Stand back. Officer! "

That caught his attention and snapped him out of his fit of rage. As he drove the pair to the station after the woman had been secured with the rescue squad, his hands gripped the steering wheel until his knuckles turns white-hot.

And that night, when Andy wanted to give him the third degree, he shut her out. He showered and went straight to bed. He hadn't had nightmares since the accident, but that night they were back. What made him feel guilty was the fact that the faces in the car were not his wife Celeste nor his daughter Sandrine, but Andy and this dark haired dimpled child.

When he jolted awake and looked over at her, she was just staring at him with watery eyes. "You were having a nightmare."

He nodded even though it wasn't a question. "Sam, who's Celeste? You were saying that name a lot." Her brows were furrowed, worried.

Suddenly, the ten inches between them felt like a mile. He rolled over and pressed his face into her stomach. "That guy Peck brought in today? He was in another bad accident; a drunk driving one did couple years for it. Killed a woman and her 6-month old. That woman was my wife Celeste and my baby girl Sandrine. Fifteen years ago. Back in Montreal. This day just kind of brought it all back."

Her hands were now combing though his hair like a sieve. A comforting gesture. "Oh Sam. Why didn't you ever tell me?"

"Because it was in the past. And I thought I was over it."

"You don't get over things that scar you like that, Sam. You learn to live with the memories." She would know. She had been scarred by different things, too.

"Marry me, Andy."

"What?" Her hands stilled in his hair.

He leaned up onto an elbow and reached for her hand. "Just someday. I just don't want to spend my life without you in it. You fixed me."

"Okay." She gave him a reassuring smile, and ran a finger along his relaxed face.

"I love you."

"Love you, too."

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><p>I'd love to have your thoughts on thiscritiques/hate-mail/etc. For some reason, I just figure there's a reason he's still unmarried.


End file.
